Mural Commission: Day by Day on Site

When someone asks what a mural commission actually looks like, they usually picture one dramatic painting day. In the studio, the brushwork is only part of it. Most walls take several days from the first ladder placement to the final touch-up pass, and the schedule shifts with surface, scale, and whether the room stays in use. This is the day-by-day breakdown I follow, pulled from walls I have actually painted. If you want to see how they finish, the portfolio is the place to start.

Before day one of a mural commission: the site visit and mockup

Every commission starts with the wall, not the brush. I take measurements, check the surface—plaster, concrete, drywall, exterior block—and photograph the light at different times of day. Those photos become the base for mockups. On the Clark Mural project, the planning references and mockups were as important as the paint; they let me lock the Surf Shack composition before I lifted a roller. For the El Oasis Hotel Mural, the spa wall dictated a tall Eastern palm scene that could read across the room without crowding the space.

At this stage I also confirm the palette, finish type, and whether the wall needs a base coat or primer. I bring small color tests if the wall is already painted, because existing color changes how a mural reads. This is also when I figure access: ladders, scaffolding, ventilation, and whether I need to work around hotel guests or a live Airbnb checkout. For hospitality and trade clients, the mockups, measurements, and material plan become the proposal package. If you are considering a wall, the commissions page is where this conversation starts.

Day 1 — prep, not paint

Day one is usually blue tape, drop cloths, patchwork, and a base coat if the existing color fights the design. On a project like the Aguada Airbnb Project—where several murals plus canvas pieces had to work together in one home—prep day is also sequencing day. I figure which wall gets morning light, which corner is visible from the bed, and where furniture will sit, so each piece relates to the next.

I fill nail holes, sand rough spots, and sometimes re-roll the wall in a neutral ground. A line mural like Banana Leaf in One Line depends on the wall's cream stucco doing the lighting work; if the base is uneven or the wrong value, the single green line loses its quiet. I also snap chalk lines or a light grid if the composition needs symmetry or scale accuracy. Paint sits in trays, but it does not touch the wall until the surface is honest.

Days 2–3 — drawing and blocking

Once the wall is ready, I transfer the mockup. Sometimes I project the sketch at night and trace key points; sometimes I use a grid and chalk. Then I block the big shapes in loose color before committing to detail. For Symmetry in Banana Leaves, the mirror line had to hold: two bird-of-paradise stems facing each other, the fan-shaped palm leaf dead center, the lower fronds sweeping outward like brackets. Getting that skeleton right took most of a day; the precision came later.

On The Jungle Drawn in Gray, the fitness studio walls were covered in grayscale botanicals—bird-of-paradise, monstera, philodendron, spiked fronds—so I mapped the full baseboard hedge first, then let the tall corner plant climb from there. Blocking shows whether the scale feels right when you walk in, not just when you are six inches from the brush. I often take progress photos at this stage to catch balance problems before the details lock them in.

Days 4–6 — paint, layer, adjust

This is where the wall earns its mood. I work section by section, usually top to bottom to avoid drips on finished areas. For Palms Before the Quiet Range, the goal was distance: a pale flat of mist, low mountains in ochre and olive, palms in the near ground. That kind of atmospheric work needs thin, repeated layers so nothing gets too literal.

The Gate Opens on Sunrise was the opposite—one unbroken yellow column of light falling from the sun through navy deep water into turquoise shallows and onto raked tan sand. Color had to stay clean, so edges were taped and each band got time to dry before the next touched it. For line pieces like Banana Leaf in One Line, I slow down. One continuous green line, no fill, no shadow: a wobble reads as a mistake, not style. Between layers I clean brushes, step back to the far corner of the room, and sometimes repaint a whole leaf if the value is off. I film some of this process; the YouTube channel has clips from walls going up.

Last day — touch-ups, walkthrough, photos

The final day is rarely more painting. I pull tape, clean smudges, check the wall under the room's actual lights, and do the final pass with a small brush. With The Shoreline Came First, there is a moment in the progress shots where the floor is still plywood but the shoreline is already finished: deep blue horizon, bands of teal and sea green flattening into sand, two crossed palms. That is the stage where I step back and decide if the wall is finished or just tired.

Then comes the documentation. Final photos are taken from the angles the client will actually see—across the room, from the doorway, in natural light. I leave care notes: what paint was used, how to wipe it, when it is fully cured. For hospitality and trade clients, I also hand over a simple spec sheet with materials and finish type. Finished walls live on the murals page.

Not every wall follows the same number of days. A small powder-room line piece might compress into two days; a multi-wall hospitality install spreads across a week or more. The constant parts are the same: measure first, prep honestly, draw before you detail, and leave the room cleaner than you found it. If you have a wall in mind, get in touch.